Against the Frenchman's chest
by frukforever
Summary: Arthur wakes up against the warm chest of Francis, and it definitely is not the first time. T for mentions of sex. /... I always suck at writing summaries


As Arthur woke up in the early morning, the first thing he saw was a well-toned, slightly hairy chest. It smelled like roses, wine and something that the Englishman could only describe as love.

To Arthur, this wasn't anything new. Even before moving in together, he had woken up like this many times before.

_After a very tiring and long world meeting, Arthur slumped down on the bar stool, already looking like he was going to spend the rest of the evening (and the night) there. He was happy to just have his glass of scotch with ice, the warm feeling of getting drunk overwhelming his tired mind after the fourth glass._

_But of course, that happiness didn't last for long. Soon a slurry French voice called for him, and, being the unsuspecting drunk Brit he was, he turned to look at Francis. Only a mere second after that, he was pushed against a wall and kissed roughly._

_Somehow the two drunken (and aroused) men managed to make their way to the Frenchman's hotel room and gall on the bed, Francis on top of Arthur._

_Neither of them had clear memories from the passionate night that followed, but they both knew it had been good._

_It was the first time when Arthur woke up like this; snuggled against the warm chest, arms securely wrapped around his small body. _

_But in that morning, Arthur didn't find the situation good; he had a horrible hangover, his ass hurt like fuck and he was scared of what had happened. As quickly as it was possible, he got up from the bed and put on his clothes, heading to his own hotel room._

Arthur smiled a bit at the memory. The first time hadn't been the most beautiful and romantic thing, but it had started all this and Arthur was glad it had happened.

After that time, the situation repeated over and over again. And before they even knew it, they were sleeping together without being drunk.

_Francis had been glancing at Arthur through the whole world meeting. The Briton was so beautiful with his hair being so messy and his emerald eyes gleaming in such a breath-taking way._

_The French knew that sex wasn't the only thing he wanted from Arthur; no matter how much he denied it, he wanted Arthur to love him. But he kept telling himself that it wasn't so. He wanted to avoid getting a broken heart._

'_Maybe he'll love me if we'll do it when we are sober'_

_A stupid thought, but worth trying, he decided._

_When the meeting was over, and the nations were leaving the room, Francis slipped the keycard of his room to the Brit's hip pocket. Arthur looked up at him questioningly, and he winked, making the other blush._

_Later that evening, Arthur knocked on the Frenchman's door and a wonderful night was started._

_The next morning, Arthur stayed where he was; against Francis' chest, in the said man's arms._

Arthur smiled a bit more. The first time having sex while being sober had been amazing; it wasn't a wonder why Francis was such a ladies' man.

After that, they started to spend more time together. First whole days, then weekends, almost whole weeks… Before they even noticed it, they were living together, half of the time in England, half in France.

_The doorbell rang. Francis was in the shower, so Arthur knew he should go to the door. It was quite late in the morning, but Arthur just thought that the mailman came a bit later than usually._

_When he opened the door and instead of a mailman he was greeted by Matthew, he was caught off-guard._

_He couldn't figure out any good lie to explain why he was in Francis' house this time of the day, wearing only his boxers and the Frenchman's shirt that was more like a dress to him (it wasn't because of the slight height difference; Francis was so much more muscular and broad-shouldered than him)._

"_Mon amour? Did the mailman bring the handcuffs-"_

"_It's Matthew."_

"…_Oh."_

_That had been such an awkward morning and it was followed with a tiring day as they had to explain how they had ended up together in the first place and why they hadn't told anyone about it._

_After a day like that, Arthur was happy to be pulled against the same warm chest and forget all his worries, just to drown in the love._

Francis opened his eyes, looking down at his British lover.

"You're early awake, mon cher. What are you thinking?"

"…Your chest."

Francis chuckled softly, pressing a kiss on the top of Arthur's head.

"Silly little Brit," he murmured; "Go back to sleep."

Smiling, Arthur pressed his ear against Francis' chest to listen to his heartbeat, soon falling asleep.

**A/N: In case you didn't get it, the things that are written with italics are Arthur's and Francis' memories**


End file.
